Harry Potter and the Heir of the Dark Lord
by GeniusInDisguise
Summary: There is somthing about Harry's dream girl that makes it a little bit harder to love her.


"Up! WAKE UP!" Aunt Petunia rapped loudly on Harry's door. "Dudders needs some new things in London, and I'm not leaving you alone in the house!" The skinny, green-eyed, sixteen-year-old boy rolled lazily off his small bed and landed with a dull 'thump' on the floor of his small room, bringing all his sheets down with him.  
  
"Ugh! Dudders.London.bull shit." He mumbled sleepily as he picked some clothes off his floor that at least looked clean. He dressed and splashed water in his face before putting on his glasses in a hopeless attempt to somewhat feel woken-up.  
  
Remembering how little he liked his skinny, horse-faced aunt's cooking he declined the offer of burnt toast and walked slowly to the car. As Harry sat in that freezing department store watching Aunt Petunia swoon all over her fat son, thunder sounded and the rain came pounding on the shop windows. A few people came running inside for shelter, including a girl that just happened to catch Harry's eye.  
  
She was a full-figured girl, about Harry's age, with elbow-length chess nut hair and soft, almond eyes. By the sound of her voice, he could tell that she was American.  
  
"It is SO cold here!" She said to a giggling blond girl that looked rather annoying. The two of them were deep in conversation as they began casually looking at the clothes. Aunt Petunia was clicking her tongue disapprovingly at the almond-eyed girl's shocking red halter-top. Neither her son, nor her nephew seemed to agree with her. Dudley and Harry finally found something in common: they both had to know her name.  
  
Before Harry realized what was happening, he was smiling at her as she winked at him and beckoned him toward her. Slowly, cautiously, he began to approach her, while making sure that Aunt Petunia wasn't looking. Dudley tried to follow suit, but was stopped when his mother tried to fit a bright blue jumper over his head that was five sizes too small.  
  
"Hey, I'm Anna, and this is Heather." She motioned to her friend who was giggling so uncontrollably that her cheeks had gone from pink to purple in a matter of four maybe five seconds. "What's your name?" she said sweetly.  
  
"My name-um-Harry." The words came out of his mouth thickly and awkwardly as if he had never really pronounced them before.  
  
"That's a nice name! Um.listen, Harry, does it always rain like this, around here?"  
  
"Not all the time," He said starting to feel a little more comfortable, "you're pretty hot-I mean it's pretty hot! It gets pretty hot around here." All comfort was lost as Heather did a poor job at stifling her new fit of laughter. Anna just smiled.  
  
"Thank you!" She said, Harry had never felt so humiliated. And then, as suddenly as it started, the rain stopped. "Well, that's my cue," she said motioning toward the sun now shining through the windows, "it was great meeting you, Harry." And as she shook his hand, she slipped a small peace of paper into it.  
  
"Bye!" said Heather when she had finally taken a breath from her giggles. And without a second glance, they were gone. Just like that.  
  
Harry gloomily wandered over to a bench and unfolded the paper and written in her cute handwriting was an e-mail address. An e-mail address. Why not a regular address? Or at least a phone number? Harry didn't have a computer; he hadn't used a computer in almost six years! "This is just great!" He mumbled under his breath.  
  
"Hurry up, you! We're leaving." Came Aunt Petunia's voice from behind him. Startled, Harry made haste to put Anna's e-mail address deep and safe in his pocket as they left the store, but Dudley was too quick for him.  
  
"What's this?" He snarled, waving the small paper menacingly above his skinny cousin's head. Harry and Dudley let Aunt Petunia walk a ways in front of them so they could argue in peace.  
  
"It's noting, Dudders! Give it back!" "I told you not to call me that, you skinny little faggot!" Harry stopped jumping for it, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.  
  
"If I'm such a skinny little faggot, then how come I got her e-mail address and you didn't?" Bewildered, Dudley tore open the paper and read it: bloomfan01@hotmail.com. Pointing to the writing, Harry continued in his smug voice, "Written proof that it's no lie!"  
  
"Too bad you can't ever use it, at the freak school-" Fortunately for Harry, the truth that he didn't want to hear was cut off.  
  
"Diddykins, dear! Come catch up with mommy!" Dudley's fat cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment as he jogged to catch up with his mother. Laughing as quietly as he could, Harry followed a few feet behined. 


End file.
